By mojave (mojave7299@yahoo.com)
Date: 12 March 2000

Sunrise Hike

Insanity--
tramping through these woods
to that spot I know that overlooks
the river
a thousand feet down and away
(a long fall
no matter how you measure it--
and not worth the trip).
And just to stand
there without you
with your letter in my pocket,
read too many times
already
(embracing pain over and over
because there is just nothing else
to do).

Well, I know a few people
who would take me to task
for that... 
People more alive than I
perhaps.
But some pretend better
than others,
and some aren't pretending at all.
They're the ones who scare me.
Once you believe poetry is more
than the words,
all that's left
is a kind of madness--
and the only existence
worth living
in the meantime.

But there is no meaning
left in your letter.
I have taken it all already
like the flavor from chewing gum.
The only meaning left
(or worth a damn)
would be you--
and you are not here
with me now
among the curious deer
watching from behind
fallen trees
and the night birds making
their otherworldly sounds
very much
in this world.

No light in these woods yet.
But it will come,
slowly,
inevitably,
building upon itself,
letting me see better
what I already know to be here--
and not a single thing more.